


All We Are, All We Want

by KrisKris



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Slow Burn, is this all we get to be absolute?, i’m trying out something new, one-shot fic, poetic stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-27
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2019-01-05 21:02:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12197358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KrisKris/pseuds/KrisKris
Summary: What they had in common was leaving everything behind to find change within themselves. Neither of them are perfect but perfect together.





	All We Are, All We Want

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Honeyberries](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Honeyberries/gifts).



_Quiet but I’m sure there is something here_

_Tell me everything ‘cause I want to hear_

_Absolute_ , The Fray

  
**__________________________________**

 

Jack Morrison was grumpy, introverted and stubborn. His chiseled jawline and once blond hair now a discolored platinum, aged well like fine wine. He had the fire of a rising Phoenix with eyes a deep, ocean blue. The physical and emotional scars were a reminder of all those years of fighting a war he could not walk away from. The weight of guilt ate away at his consciousness as he searched for answers.

_Bring back Overwatch. What’s the point?_

Tekhartha Zenyatta appeared to be a timid character, almost as delicate as a flower. He appeared rather thin and frail with such a small frame, one would assume it was a weakness. It was difficult to tell what he was thinking since he had no use for facial expressions but emotion resonated from within. Compassionate and peace-driven, he had crossed paths with many who were led astray by material gain and uncontrollable rage but one could not so easily read Jack Morrison.

They would get along well with the other but they were complete opposites. Jack was better off alone while Zenyatta strived in the presence of both company and introversion. Perhaps, he understood why. The eternal dread of losing the people you cared for the most. He blamed himself constantly and drove others away. He was angry at himself. Just how can anyone rid him of that?

_Your hands bear a warmth similar to the Iris._

_Whatever the Iris is, I want no part of it._

There was an invisible barrier between them during the first few days Jack joined after the recall. He refused to speak to anyone, locking himself away in his quarters with only a fading photograph of the past and his own crippling sanity. He spoke a few words, more so when he was provoked. He was a man on a mission and he was no longer alone.

The orbs around Zenyatta’s neck eagerly circled around him as they always did when the soldier spoke directly at him, looking him in the eyes. His internal systems ceased to a halt for only a moment, similar to how a heart would skip a beat. Was it wrong for an omnic to love? Was it wrong to love someone whom you could not reach, especially be it, a man? Those philosophies had run its course long ago.

_I don’t think you’re broken, Master. You must like him quite a lot._

In silence, he waits. It is naïveté that keeps him from the truth: Jack Morrison could not be deterred by spiritual change alone. He decides on a more gentle approach, slowly but surely, there is something there. Jack appears to be struggling with words as he tries to speak with Hana. A stern, disinterested expression, saying very little but he understood her. She seemed happy to carry on a conversation while he listened willingly. A young, respectable soldier she was.

Zenyatta greeted him early before meditation and during Jack’s morning jog around the Watchpoint.

_Good morning, Jack._

He had called out his name, softly but loud enough for him to hear. It was a pleasant sound to his own ears.

_‘Morning, Zenyatta._

It sounded better hearing his name said so casually. Every syllable was perfect in such a gruff and husky tone. A wave of relief washed over him when he had replied so coolly. The first time his chest felt so strange was the sound of Zenyatta’s tickled laughter. He was speaking with Bastion, a fellow omnic whose voice is a series of beeps and tweets. The symbol of destruction, now a gentle machine with a bird companion. Zenyatta seemed satisfied and absorbed in their conversation, he failed to notice Jack’s eyes on him until the cardinal turned to him and chirped curiously. Flustered, Jack abruptly stood, leaving the room in a rush. The other two were left confused.

Zenyatta understood why Jack was so distant. The bottled up frustration he held inside finally cracked when he had been severely injured on a mission out of his own recklessness, almost costing his life. Angela scolded him and he argued. He doubled over in pain from the fresh wound she had bandaged previously, now soaked a dark crimson.

During those days of recovery, Zenyatta visited the infirmary frequently. The wall between them began to crumble when Jack slowly opened up to him. He gathered enough courage to finally ask him.

_Why do you fight so carelessly?_

_Old habits die hard, I guess._

Jack didn’t have the heart to be angry with Zenyatta. They have gotten this close to push him away now. He appreciated his company every second he was seated near his bedside and when he wasn’t, anxiety and self-loathing consumed him with reoccurring dreams of a broken, if not, irreparable friendship.

Zenyatta notices something is bothering Jack and he doesn’t understand. He visits again, Jack is close to recovering. The pain in his side no longer aches or bleeds but he now has a troubled mind.

_What are the doubts that plague you, my friend?_

It took some time but Jack hesitated for a moment. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came. His throat went dry and his voice faltered.

_I can’t… I’m sorry._

The day after recovery, Zenyatta sat meditating outside with Genji at the Watchpoint. Jack appeared, walking towards them. He waited until he caught their attention and waved.

_Do you mind if I... joined you?_

_You are always welcome, Jack._

_I have to tell you something._

_Tell me everything I want to hear._

His thoughts were overbearing, keeping him awake almost every night. He felt insignificant being here, being in Overwatch. He wasn’t the same man he used to be, trying to pick up the pieces of his old reflection only for them break apart in his hands. Time heals all wounds but time cannot atone for its crimes. Distance is all he can make up for, he fears attachment but his feelings stop him. Attachment comes with a price but he risks it all for the one he loves. Though, he kept it a secret, save for another time.

When Jack finally confesses, it’s Zenyatta who initiates. He offers a flower crown of dark red carnations, symbolizing deep love and affection. Jack doesn’t question it when the other leans in to gently cup his face, taking him by surprise. His face and earlobes are burning despite the cool metal pressed against his lips.

 _You_ do _bear a warmth like the Iris._

_I love you too._

The others begin to tease him at the adorable display before them weeks later. Jack scowls at their jokes but they laugh and giggle because it’s a side of him they have never seen before. It was interesting seeing him so caring and affectionate, wondering why he was always so grumpy. They were glad to see him so open.

Zenyatta’s face brightened at their remarks, orbs floating about excitedly as he embraced Jack so lovingly, the grumbling subsided and replaced with the most timid smile.

_You’re ridiculous._

_My love makes you flustered, therefore, you are also ridiculous._

Jack steals kisses and Zenyatta steals sweaters. Jack finds it adorable when the sleeves droop past his hands and he struggles to set them free, only to be interlaced with Jack’s fingers to steal another kiss to hear that same, cute laugh. He is surprised to find his lover pulling him closer.

_Someone’s eager._

_I suppose, old habits die hard._

Jack chuckles amusingly at his remark. He likes when Zenyatta comes up with such retorts especially if they are his own, he finds them impressive because he does it on purpose. They say Zenyatta is innocent but they don’t know him well enough.

Zenyatta loves Jack unconditionally, his flaws, his scars and everything in-between. Secrets he never told anyone, not even Ana or Gabe had known. Jack loves Zenyatta all the same. His pure heart and kind, gentle nature. Jack tells stories about his family, Ana and Gabe; Zenyatta tells stories about Mondatta and memories of the Shambali. What they had in common was leaving everything behind to find change within themselves. Neither of them are perfect but perfect together.

Together they laid on Jack’s bed, not to make love but to cuddle and talk. Zenyatta on Jack’s chest with an oversized sweater and his arms around his waist. This was the inner peace Jack had always wanted. No longer does the pain and emptiness bother Zenyatta anymore.

_This is all we are and all we want._

**Author's Note:**

> To Honeyberries: My best friend and beta. Without you, I would have never gotten this far in my life. Thank you. I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did writing it.
> 
> This took three tries to write a decent one. Two have been scrapped but they were somehow still used to make this. Inspired by the song Absolute by The Fray (on repeat). All those times of falling asleep on this was totally worth it.


End file.
